Jane Adams is luminous playing Marie, a fretful, no-longer-young actress living in a pylon-anchored, cluttered Malibu beach apartment and just relating to life. She morning surfs. She entertains her visiting younger, aspiring actress niece (Sophia Takal). She has brief affairs with guys (Larry Fessenden does a killer Jack Nicholson interpretation), and is constantly making noxious health drinks in her mixer. In other words, she is going through the motions of living as realistically as possible. Joe Swanberg directed (and shot and edited) the film with his usual mumblecore ambling sensibility. But the script, co-written with Adams, manages to get beneath the surface of this woman as few films do. Just like life itself, there is no polished narrative here, and the story just peters out with yet another gorgeous view of the sea from Marie's ocean perched balcony. It's enough.

Kevin Pollak interviews 56 stand-up comedians and comic actors in this documentary which defines "big-head close-ups". Their commentaries range from such issues as their fathers, the nature of comedy, whether it's necessary to be miserable to make funny etc. The editing of various comics and sequences inter-cut to make one continuous conversation is clever. But if 56 comedians go an hour and a half without a single laugh line (well, maybe a couple of funny anecdotes), the film runs the risk of becoming boring. I did find it mostly interesting; but I was also occasionally bored. This is in stark contrast to the 2005 documentary where 100 comedians all tell the same bad joke in their own fashion, called The Aristocrats, which just might be the funniest film I've ever seen. All I can say is that I'd rather watch comedy people make funny than seriously discuss their art.

Sure, this is an entertaining documentary. Forty years of Saturday Night Live! Could it really be that long? There were some skits from various eras (I mostly checked out of this Zeitgeist show after the first cast left, so some of the later stuff was fresh for me...I still hardly cracked a smile.) The film even tried to tell some history and background of the show, interviewing surviving cast, crew and guests..but it all seemed rather perfunctory. I could say it was disappointing; but I have never expected all that much from SNL, so it lived up to my expectations.

Pakistan is one of the three countries that still harbors the polio virus despite the efforts of WHO to distribute oral vaccine to every child. The main problem is that in 2012 the Taliban which controls large areas of western Pakistan declared a jihad against the polio vaccine as part of a Western poisoning plot akin to drone strike killings of children; and several volunteers were murdered while trying to reach the children to administer the liquid. This documentary examines the problem in depth, telling the story from the governments point of view, the Taliban's, the heath workers, and also that of victims of the disease.

The film is rather slow, and ponderously edited with a dirge like, eastern flavored music track. But it is also freighted with enormous resonance: children in peril, an anti-science religious fervor which reminds us of own vaccine deniers here in the U.S. The stakes are high; since 2012 there is evidence that the water borne polio virus has been spreading to other countries emanating from its reservoir in Pakistan. But the film tells how the Pakistani health officials have developed a tactic of hiding the objective of their efforts, de-emphisizing the word "polio," and staging massive efforts to reach children with military protection for the volunteers. This is a documentary with vital, real-world consequences; and as such it is extremely effective in raising concerns and showing how retrogressive forces like the Taliban actually are affecting all of us.

The film is comprised of a series of satiric vignettes telling stories about human nature, with a pair of "novelty items" salesmen used as a recurring benchmark. The camera is locked down, the scenes are shot entirely as master shots with no internal edits, and the color palette of every scene is severely limited to beige and warm pastels. Another trademark of the great Swedish director Roy Andersson is shooting with wide angle lenses which provide extreme depth of field, with action constantly happening at various depths.

Having watched and admired the previous two films in Andersson's trilogy (Songs from the Second Floor and You, the Living,) I had to watch this third film. It's pretty safe to say that for all the uniqueness of Andersson's vision, his themes here come out as trite and vapid. Yet the very peculiarity and earnestness of his unconventional actors doing outrageous things did sustain my interest and occasionally struck me as genuinely funny. One non-sequitur scene where soldier King Charles XII stomps into a modern bar on horseback is particularly memorable. That's the thing about Andersson...no matter how head scratchingly weird his movies are, the visual presentation is fabulous.

I had a chance to watch a free 3D screening and passed it up. The film in 2D was stunted by a ridiculous plot, even more absurd than most Marvel films (I'm afraid that Edgar Wright as a writer just never seems to match his skill as a director), a cookie-cutter villain (Corey Stoll), and a leading lady (Evangeline Lilly) who seemed wasted, if not irrelevant. But I think I might have enjoyed watching the great, kinetic visuals in 3D, which undoubtedly would have raised my rating at least a half-star. Anyway, it wasn't Paul Rudd's fault. He made the best Marvel comic hero debut since Robert Downey, Jr. first appeared in the original Iron Man. And certainly it was no fault of Michael Peña, who stole every scene he was in. Also, Michael Douglas added some needed gravitas to his role. But it wasn't enough.

Woody Allen is channeling Patricia Highsmith (or maybe Ruth Rendell) in this sophisticated, academia based mystery story that is clever enough to spin a tangled web of love and deceit, until it leaves too many unanswered plot holes at the end. The actors are fine, especially Joaquin, who does dissipated professor very well (Emma Stone is just Emma Stone.) But the best thing about today's screening was the Q&A afterwards, listening to Parker Posey dish her Woody experiences mimicking Woody's own voice. Priceless.

And now I see some of this interview is on YouTube here.

A bisexual German, a gay Englishman and a younger Polish sojourner trekking on summer holiday hook up on a road trip through the surprisingly unpopulated Uckermark forest and lake country in Germany. The scenery is beautiful, as are the men; and the full frontal nudity is...nice. But the plot is rather simplistic, mostly about sexual tension rather than sex or meaningful relationships.

Charlie is a cute, 23-year old gay man, part of a mixed group of Manhattan upper-eastside hipsters which includes his best friend from age 11, Sebastian. Charlie is hung up on Sebastian; although both are gay, they've never made it together. When Sebastian becomes involved in a notorious family scandal, and Charlie falls for Tim, an older Lebanese concert pianist, the interpersonal dynamics of this group of friends is shattered. I'm not going to get into the complexities of the plot of this wonderful film, which is smart and poignant and knocked me for a loop. Suffice it to say that first time writer/director Joey Kuhn has made a film about real people at a stressful junction of their lives who are self-aware and remarkably identifiable. If, like me, you regard Whit Stillman's 1990 film Metropolitan as a signal achievement of indie film making, then you'll understand where I'm coming from in admiring this similar film with gay protagonists.

Oh, yes, kudos to the three actors, Jonathan Gordon, Jason Ralph and Haaz Sleiman, who are all superbly sympathetic portraying this relationship triangle. And for a first feature film, Kuhn's direction is remarkably assured. The film looks awesome thanks to Leonardo D'Antoni's wide-screen cinematography, and has a particularly effective score by Adam Crystal. All in all, I was blown away; and I'm looking forward to see future work by all involved.

I'm a tennis fan and I laughed. Twice. That's probably enough. The graphics were good anyway, especially the group sex in the prison shower. But as comedies go, this one was...let's say, not very cricket.

A writer's blocked poet and a famous sculptor have steamy sex with boy toy Jim in one Philadelphia night of cruising and carousing. That's the set-up for an artfully shot and directed film which, staying just this side of porn, had elements of John Cassavetes and Jean Genet all rolled into one highly charged package.

The unfamiliar actors (especially cute Zack Ryan as Jim and Brian Sheppard as the poet Brian) are quite convincing in their roles, mostly shot in extreme close-ups. I was particularly impressed with Matthew Boyd's cinematography, utilizing chiaroscuro worthy of Caravaggio to emphasize the shadows of the night and the sexual tension of all of the encounters (although talking to Boyd after the film, he told me that the projection at the Director's Guild was flawed by contrast settings higher than intended...I thought the effect had been done on purpose and worked especially well to emphasize the film's moodiness.) This wasn't an easy, feel-good film. All the promiscuous sex without condoms seemed rather retro. But director Joseph Graham has raised the bar for a realistic, literary, American gay cinema with this film, a niche that has usually been the province of today's French gay cinema.

Four middle class black teenagers were playing loud rap music in their car while filling up at a Jacksonville, Florida gas station when a middle-age white dude chose to "stand his ground" and shoot to kill the fleeing kids. One boy died. This documentary examines in detail this famous event, emphasizing with actual footage the trial of the white dude which followed.

The filmmakers tried to remain neutral and just lay out the facts of the case as presented in court. However, by emphasizing the plight of the dead boy's parents, the deck was somewhat stacked. Still, by skillfully editing the actual courtroom testimony, director Silver has produced a true life morality tale as effective as any fictional drama.

Benjamin is a young intern, doing his first service as a doctor in a Parisian hospital. The work is arduous, and despite good intentions, Benjamin makes mistakes (which his father, a doctor and head of the department) helps cover up. Benjamin befriends Abdel, an older Algerian intern (foreign doctors must serve as interns to get their license to practice in France); and the film develops as a realistic hospital drama reminiscent of the TV series "House," which, not coincidentally, is constantly being watched on the hospital's television sets.

Vincent Lacoste is impressive as Benjamin, youthful, earnest, principled. Reda Kateb matches him as the older Arab doctor. Back in 1963 I spent a week as a patient in a Parisian hospital...and I have to say the experience was much more sanitized than the overworked, underfunded and understaffed ward of this film. But this is an updated and very realistic (one supposes) view of health care in France today. Bottom line: good medical drama, worth watching.

For my money, Peter Greenaway's increasingly transgressive film making is not a good development. I remain a huge fan of his earlier narrative works from A Zed and Two Noughts through The Pillow Book, a decade of pure genius. Then for whatever reason, his films took a formal turn into digital experimentation that I found hard to follow. Still, this new, large scale narrative biopic, covering a ten day span in Mexico that shook Russian film director Sergei Eisenstein's world, was a lot of fun to watch. The film was especially notable for copious frontal male nudity and (apparently) non-simulated gay sex. But after a while I found the madcap adventures of Eisenstein (a truly manic performance by Elmer Bäck) and his "guide" and lover Palomino Cañedo (Louis Alberti) to be somewhat tedious.

This distressingly arty Australian gay film was a depiction of bullying and homophobia that left me feeling bereft and a little confused. In telling the story of a trio of lifeguards on a Sydney beach, and their testosterone driven lives leading to disaster, the film maker just went too far...as an audience member I felt violated somehow. The acting, especially by the unfamiliar three leads Matt Levett, Jack Matthews and Harry Cook, was actually quite good...and a reason to live with the fractured narrative and terrible sexual politics (although, to be truthful, probably based on reality.) I admired the misbegotten bravura of the editing, the depiction of the degradation of the gay scene in Sydney, and the frankly hot men. But this is a film I would gladly have missed.

Mark and Jonah are a thirty-something gay couple trying to deal with rekindling the original spark of their failing relationship through couples therapy. Actor turned writer/director Philipp Karner bravely plays the heel role in the relationship, unable to continue loving his doting partner (an ingratiating performance by Denver Milord), and unwilling to make the effort to deal with the problems that had been required by the therapist.

This is basically an unpleasant story of mismatched love. Yet, for me at least, my initial bad reaction to the film was, in retrospect, tempered by reflection afterwards. Karner, in what may be a somewhat autobiographical story, managed to touch a universal truth about the nature of gay relationships that has rarely been attempted, let alone successfully portrayed, in films. Give credit where credit is due. But don't expect a rose garden watching this film.

Jake Gyllenhaal is superb, playing light heavyweight boxer Billy Hope (as in "Great White..."). He had won 40+ fights in a row without a defeat, willing to exhaust his opponents by taking blows until he delivered the coup de grace. He was institutionally raised as an orphan from Hells Kitchen, where he met his future wife and support system (a lively performance by Rachel McAdams). They lived the high life, mansion, Rolls-Royces, a pampered 10-year old daughter...until disaster struck and Billy sank to the depths emotionally and financially. That's the setup for this up-then-down-then-maybe-up-again journey of redemption flick.

Honestly, Kurt Sutter's script was terrible, following every conventional trope of past boxing films in predictable fashion. However, Anton Fuqua somehow managed to surmount the script with strong direction and editing; an excellent, energetic rap-flavored soundtrack; and some of the most convincing boxing action ever put on film. Of course he was aided by Gyllenhaal and McAdams (I'm hoping that Oscar finds Gyllenhaal this year after he was robbed of a deserved nomination for Nightcrawler last year). And the film is blessed with an especially effective child actor performance by Oona Laurence, as Hope's young daughter cast adrift into a heartless child services system.

For all the film's flaws (mainly the screenplay), I was totally involved and invested with these characters. The film just worked for me, from beginning to satisfying conclusion.

Hyphenate (writer/director/lead actor) Taiwanese-American filmmaker Barnie Cheng has made what amounts to a sequel to Ang Lee's groundbreaking 1993 gay film The Wedding Banquet. Cheng plays Danny, successful MBA type living in Los Angeles with his Anglo artist boyfriend Tate (Michael Adam Hamilton.) His mother (played by Ya-Lei Kuei, who also played the mother in Banquet) desperately wants a grandchild, and is unwilling to admit that her favorite son is gay. Danny wants Tate to go along with making a child by surrogacy; and momma in Taiwan reluctantly takes part in the arduous project of creating a grandchild.

In lesser hands than the committed Cheng, this would be a clichéd mess of a film. However, the slick production design and cinematography, excellent acting, and convincing international flavor, along with a genuinely moving script (at least for me, although I heard some grumbling reactions from more jaded members of the festival audience), made for an emotionally satisfying film about gay parenthood.

The aging, but still fit, boys from Magic Mike, with a couple of crucial absences, get together three years later to compete one last time in a stripper contest at Myrtle Beach. That's the set-up for this inferior sequel which combines fitfully interesting road trip clichés with some nicely choreographed male stripper dance routines in an extended sequence which ends the film.

Right from the start I was turned off by the dingy, poorly lit cinematography...in a film which clearly called for glamor and glitz. That was balanced by Channing Tatum's soulful acting and dancing as the heart of the story roughly based on his early life as a "male entertainer" (as his career progresses he has become a more convincing actor.) And there's impressive work by others, especially Donald Glover as a sexy rapper, Joe Manganiello, convincingly testosterone driven, and Jada Pinkett Smith who brings fire to the culminating sequence as emcee.

Bottom line: misbegotten sequel, which only works when the clothes come off.

Martin and Tomaz are two post-adolescent boys visiting Martin's family vacation home at a Brazilian beach resort during the winter. Martin is there on some mysterious business for his father (the parents are absent), and Tomaz trails along as his friend. Turns out that Tomaz (played by cute actor Mauricio Barcellos) is in the process of coming out, keeping his secret from his best friend who is taking advantage of the ready availability of the neighborhood girls. Most of the film follows this coy depiction of budding sexuality, with not much happening to advance the narrative. Until 3/4 of the way through, the friends have a heart-to-heart conversation which leads to a beautifully shot, extended sex scene that almost makes up for the ennui of the previous material. The film ends with a sequence that is very reminiscent of the end of The 400 Blows, and suddenly it clicked that this was filmmaking in the style of the French New Wave.

This is a fictionalized costume drama taking place in the court of the Sun King, Louis XIV, and telling the story of the creation of the gardens of Versailles from the point of view of two of the landscape artists. That the artists involved were a man, André Le Notre, and a woman, Sabine De Barra, who have an affair, is the crux of the drama. And even though the two actors, Matthias Schoenaerts and Kate Winslet, are excellent, the film ultimately degenerates into a confusing potboiler of court intrigue and chick flick romanticism. The costumes and setting were sumptuous, in any case. Director Alan Rickman (who also plays Louis XIV) is good with actors; but the pacing was off and the film failed to engage me.

Currently released under the title A BORROWED IDENTITY.

Tawfeek Barhom gives a star-making, under-played performance playing Eyad, an Arab Palestinian boy smart enough to be granted a scholarship to Israel's finest Jewish boarding school in the strife torn late 1980s and early 1990s. There he fulfills his public service obligation by aiding and befriending Yonathan, a Jewish boy suffering from muscular dystrophy, and forms a bond with Yonathan's supportive mother. Also, he has an affair with a Jewish girl, despite her parents disapproval. That is the set-up for a riveting story which is both a personal coming of age and a sympathetic examination of the ongoing Palestinian-Israeli conflict, mostly from the Arab point of view. Once again, Israeli director Eran Riklis (whose previous films included The Syrian Bride and Zaytoun) showcases a particularly even-handed, personalized outlook on the Arab-Jewish conflict.

I loved this film, which provided fascinating historical context and also a hero that I could identify with. The families, both Palestinian and Israeli, were vividly written and acted. As for the "forbidden" love affair, this was the straight equivalent to that of the two men from opposite sides in the marvelous recent Israeli gay film, Out in the Dark. I'm not going to get into spoiler territory (although the new title does provide perhaps too strong a clue to the film's outcome); but suffice it to say that my only problem with this film was that it ended too soon, leaving me desperate to know what happens to Eyad in the future. A sequel is definitely called for.

I love the Terminator series...even the tacky TV show "The Sarah Connor Chronicles." The concept of man vs. machine, as well done as it has been in past films, just appeals to me. However, this film was all wrong from the casting to the mixed up, anachronistic time travel story (when grown-up Kyle Reese encountered his teen-age self with no consequences to the time line, my head exploded.)

I adore Emilia Clarke as Daenerys in "Game of Thrones." But she's all wrong here for Sarah, too light weight to fill the shoes of Linda Hamilton or even Lena Headey (from the tv show). As for Jason Clarke's John Connor and Jai Courtney's Kyle Reese...neither worked nearly as well for me as previous incarnations. Only the "young" Arnold Schwarteznegger, a miracle of CGI and makeup, pulled off his role with the swagger that made the original creation of the Terminator such an icon.

Bottom line: at least one, if not more, sequels too many.

Seymour Bernstein is an elderly classical pianist, composer and teacher. He also seems like a hell of a nice guy in this documentary directed by Ethan Hawke, who admires Bernstein as a valued mentor. The film is made up of almost wall-to-wall scenes of Seymour either talking about his musical philosophy, playing classical romantic music on a series of Steinway grands while talking about it, or teaching a series of talented students while talking about them and their relationship to the music they're playing. Hawke's direction is rather invisible (although some of the more interesting parts of the film are when Hawke himself is on screen admiring his mentor.) After a while I just stopped listening to the words, which seemed repeat familiar themes, and just enjoyed the music and spending time with this interesting, if verbose, gentleman.

Sin-Dee and Alexandra, two fabulous drag queens of color, bitch fight their way through one long Christmas Eve, plying the streets of Hollywood, CA. What unfolds is a raucous indie comedy that plays like a truthful breath of fresh air. The film expands to tell the story of Razmik a married Armenian taxicab driver who has a thing for the "ladies," and his snoopy mother-in-law out to expose him. And then there is Chester, the pimp who hangs out at the corner Donut Time, who has been two-timing Sin-Dee with Dinah, one of his actual woman ho's. The film plays as a frenetic farce; but it is always grounded in the realistic portrayals of its melange of characters (only one of which is a familiar-to-me actor, James Ransone as Chester.) Amazingly enough, this film was shot on an iPhone 5...and yet it looks great on the big screen, utilizing natural lighting and expert camera work. This film will offend some with its unconventional cast of characters and profane dialog. But it's the funniest comedy in a while and I enjoyed every moment.

This documentary tells the heretofore untold story of the 1971 document heist of the FBI office at Media, PA. The perps were never caught; but 44 years later, five survivors of the nine people involved have decided to tell their story in this film. It's actually fascinating and well told through interviews, stock footage and re-creations. Before Watergate, before the Pentagon Papers, before Edward Snowden, these stolen documents proving ongoing, illegal surveillance by the FBI had a huge impact on the national scene. The film plays like a true-life thriller; and the document thieves, now elderly or dead, are unsung heroes of that trouble plagued era.

There are still important documentaries to be made from the experiences of the Holocaust. As more and more survivors die off, and as the horrors recede in memory, it seems to me that the stories yet to be told should not be ignored just because "I've heard all this before." This informative and rather straightforward film documents several stories about Jews living in Italy during WWII, and the brave Catholics who risked their lives helping to keep most of them from the extermination camps.

The film emphasizes the story of famed Italian bicycle racer Gino Bartali (twice winner of the Tour de France) who sneaked forged ID documents in the chassis of his practice racing bike. But it also tells of entire monasteries and plain folks who hid Jews and aided them to escape the German occupied north of Italy from 1943 until the end of the war. The stories are told from the pov of several elderly survivors and their surviving children and grandchildren. The film also utilizes subtle and authetic costumed re-creations of events, with actors. It's tastefully done. There have been better, more emotionally stirring films telling similar stories; but these events and the deeds of these heroes deserve to be noted for posterity.

Disney nature documentaries have their own mystique. Technically they are usually quite remarkable, getting the lowdown on their subjects with a tenacity that usually provides some startling revelations. This documentary tells the story (yes, one of the hallmarks of Disney is that their nature films are edited to tell a story) of a tribe of toque macaque monkeys who inhabit the jungles of Sri Lanka. The film focuses on one low-born female, call her Maya, and her mating with the roving male Kumar and the adventures of their offspring Kip. Thus a narrative is born, with wall-to-wall narration (by Tina Fey) showing the story of the monkey tribe fighting for food, protecting their territory as it is challenged by a rival tribe, and marauding for food and enjoying amusing adventures in the city. By personalizing the narrative, the film can easily be compared to an animated fiction film featuring lovable animals...only this is live action, and the script is probably imposed on real events. Nevertheless, one has to admire the film for what it is. Only I prefer my documentaries to have more grit and human interest. Different strokes...

Alicia Vikander (the actor who burst into my purview playing the robot in Ex-Machina) is remarkable in this WWI era drama based on the famed anti-war memoir by British pacifist crusader Vera Brittain. The film tells the story of the real Brittain's involvement with three boys from 1914 on, boys who start out as innocents excited to go to war, but whose fates are foretold and somehow inevitable. One of these boys was Roland Leighton (played by a dashingly coiffed Kit Harrington...I kept wanting to say to the character "You know nothing, Roland Leighton.") If this film isn't quite the equal of All Quiet on the Western Front as a war film, it still excels as a wartime romance...sad and involving. Maybe it was just a tad too much of a "woman's picture" for my tastes; but after all, it was this incredible woman's tragic true life story, so I can forgive that.

There is a subset of documentary which sort of started with Errol Morris's The Thin Blue Line about abject failures of the justice system. This film is the latest example, and one of the best and most ironic. Thirty years ago, 19-year old Mark DeFriest was sentenced to four years in prison for "stealing" his dead father's tools prior to probate (when his vindictive step-mother complained to police, even though the tools would eventually have been Mark's property.) Unfortunately Mark was most likely psychotic, and he became a serial disciplinary problem in prison (multiple prison breaks, victim of horrendous mass rapes and even worse abuses by a succession of prison guards leading to over 27 years in solitary.) Over time his release date had moved forward to 2081 due to additional added penalty time, all that for what amounted to something of a non-crime to begin with (Florida's justice system and its prisons certainly gets roasted in this film.)

This film inspires anger at a terrible system; but ultimately the audience finds no satisfaction here. Let's face it, Mark DeFriest isn't the most sympathetic of subjects; but he probably (and according to this film certainly) doesn't deserve what life has dished out. The film is quite well written and edited to make its points, with effective animation to re-create past events...although I was left wondering how, if the film were accurate, this situation ever happened in the first place and continues to this day.

Paul is a teenager in 1992, living in Paris and obsessed with electronic dance music and the rave scene. Along with a friend he drops out of school and becomes a famous club DJ; and despite a cocaine addiction and multiple difficult relationships, his career has its ups and downs through 2013. Paul was based on the life and career of director Mia Hanson-Love's brother Sven (who wrote the screenplay). Félix de Givry, an exciting young presence in French cinema, gave a wonderfully understated performance as Paul, who is in just about every scene and grounds the film in reality.

The film itself is a string of chronological episodes, with clever graphic titles to set the year. What unifies these episodes is an almost unbroken music sound track which plays like an elaborate club DJ set of '90s and 00's dance music that lasts 21 years. The entire film could have used some editing; there are sequences that could easily have been eliminated. However I was blown away by the excitement of the production and totally involved with Paul's upward and downward character arc. It didn't bother me a bit (as it has others) that very little effort was made to age the characters realistically. For de Givry, a little extra facial hair went a long way to explain 21 years passing by.

I'm aware that this film isn't going to have universal appeal...there are events that are difficult to handle (particularly the drugs and one character's foreshadowed suicide). It was also hard to differentiate many of the characters in the large cast, since little effort was made to round out the many who remained stereotypes. However, I was entranced by the world created in this film.

Iris Apfel is a nonagenarian phenomenon: a woman whose entire being has been devoted for decades to a unique sense of stylishness (or depending on one's point of view, to kitsch.) Her claim to fame is a lifetime of shopping for bargains and collecting fabulous clothes, accessories, art objects etc. and using them to make herself into a unique creation. She's definitely outspoken; and even in her 90's she has all her marbles and more. She's the subject of this always interesting documentary by elderly, cinema verité documentary filmmaker Albert Maysles (who recently passed on.) The old bag is certainly interesting enough to make a movie about (after all, this is the filmmaker who shot Grey Gardens); and the editing and cinematography are fine enough to keep one intrigued. But I was definitely ready to take my leave of Mrs. Apfel (and her 100-year old, still sharp husband Carl) by the end of the film.

Michael Winterbottom, a director I have admired in the past, attempts to fictionalize the Amanda Knox Italian murder trial by inventing a troubled filmmaker (played by Daniel Brühl) attempting to write a come-back screenplay about the affair. Unfortunately, Winterbottom's own screenplay is as overwrought and botched as his fictitious film maker's. Even the Tuscan scenery is wasted.

This uncompromisingly brutal film tells the story of a deaf-mute boy who enters the insular world of a boarding school for deaf-mutes, and is initiated into a corrupt and criminal clique within the school (the eponymous "tribe.") Since the entire film plays for its 130 minutes in Ukrainian signing with no subtitles or words of any kind, the viewer is thrust into an unfamiliar world with few signposts. Along the way, the audience is subjected to unimaginable violence, raw sex, and the most graphic abortion scene since 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days. That the film is formally groundbreaking, reminiscent of such exemplars of assaultive hyper-realism as Haneke, Dumont and the Dardenne brothers, is what makes the film worth watching. Incidentally, the entire cast is comprised of actual deaf-mute non-actors. What the director achieved with this canvas was quite extraordinary, even if I was totally repelled by the film and its message.

This is writer/director Maya Forbes's clearly autobiographical take on her growing up in the 1970s in a mixed-racial family with a bi-polar ("Polar Bear") father, and a younger sister. I'm not going to effuse about this film since my own personal relationships with similar bi-polar persons (even to this day) made this film extraordinarily difficult to watch. Still, truth is truth; and Mark Ruffalo was spectacularly on target with this underplayed characterization of the father (although mostly manic as written here.) All the actors are flawless...I particularly admired the brave choice to have the director's own daughter Imogene Wolodarsky play her mother as a pre-teenager. The film rambles from one memorable anecdote to the next from the child's point of view, with no real conclusion other than that she survived. That's enough to make this observational drama about how mental illness affects a family worth watching.

This documentary claims (and effectively shows with many examples) that there is an epidemic of sexual assaults on college campuses nationwide; and that the various universities are covering it up for monetary and public relations reasons. The film is relevant, skillfully edited and passes the smell test...the college administrations reek of the corruption of the big money of sports and donors. The film also shows with interviews with victims and campus protesters, a path to redemption as government steps in to enforce Title IX. This is an example of activist documentary film making at its best.

Three nerdy, hip-hop band performing high school seniors in the most gang infested, violence prone area of Inglewood, CA, find themselves accidentally in possession of several bricks of the designer drug "molly". That's the set-up for this frenetic comedy where every other piece of dialog is the "N" word, and bitcoins are the currency of the new hip.

OK, I'm not the intended audience for this film, admittedly. But I loved the Pharrell Williams inspired music; and the three leads (Shameik Moore, Kiersey Clemons and Tony Revolori who was the lobby boy in Grand Budapest Hotel) were a delight. But the pacing was overamped, the sex scenes gratuitous and the cringe-worthy dialog muddled. Other than that, this was the kind of crazy, 21st century, urban farce that its intended audience will undoubtedly flock to.

The eponymous "gardeners of Eden" are the wild elephants who instinctively tend the savannahs of the Tsavo National Park in Eastern Kenya. These elephants are increasingly the prey of poachers who lust after their tusks to be sold as ivory, an activity that will likely make the species extinct in a decade or so. This documentary tells of the fate of these elephants and their orphaned babies; and how the battle against poachers is fought while efforts are made to rescue the orphan elephants and eventually return them to the wild. When it comes to the evil doings of humans, it's hard to shock me. But the depravity of these poachers and the heroics of the conservators who work to save the elephant herds (including film producer, actress Kristin Davis) managed to both sicken and ultimately move me.

This documentary may be the most frightening story of justice perverted and government malfeasance ever...or maybe it's the story of an economic crime on a huge scale (i.e. a multi-billion dollar Ponzi Scheme to end all Ponzi schemes, although nobody is claiming any losses as near as I can figure). I'm still not sure; although the film sure made me feel uneasy about governments and the world's financial stability.

There's no doubt that Martin Armstrong, an unschooled economist and financial seer (and the subject of the film) was railroaded into 12 years imprisonment for practically nothing. But the case presented in this film was too complex and murky, relying on a series of dry interviews that droned on for an hour and a half. And after all was said and done, I still didn't understand what the film was actually about. I never was that good at the study of economics at university; but it seemed to me that the filmmaker just didn't organize the material to make sense of what occurred. Or maybe I just dozed through the parts of the film that actually brought clarity.

I liked the HBO series which successfully satirized the excesses of successful, young Hollywood celebrity lives. The movie is just more of the same on a larger screen. For me, this was a better transition to a self-contained movie than what was attempted with Sex and the City. The script was clever, the characters and their antics still amusing, the satire of the studio and Hollywood culture realistic and relevant (to a degree.) But my favorite part of the film was over in the first two minutes: a glorious main title sequence which imposed the titles realistically over such iconic L.A. landmarks as Pinks and Randy's Donuts utilizing the authentic type styles of each building. Maybe you had to be an L.A. native to get how wonderful this was...but I felt like applauding. The rest of the film never quite lived up to that level of creativity.

How can a "costume drama" with fabulous costumes and gorgeous production design be so boring and misbegotten? Well, this version of Flaubert's scandalous novel manages that difficult task. Most importantly, I didn't buy Mia Wasikowska in the title role: more mademoiselle than madam, shrilly projecting an unrealistic naivety and lack of sexual chemistry with any of her three lovers (all of whom were reasonably acceptable in their roles, particularly Logan Marshall-Green as the cruel marquis.) Honestly, the recent modern day French farce Gemma Bovery, was a better version of the story than this mess.

Genesis (a wonderfully intense performance by Cliff Curtis) was a former Maori chess prodigy nicknamed "Dark Horse", who was eventually crippled by mental illness. In this based-on-a-true-story inspirational drama, somehow he summons the grit to help his 15 year-old nephew (James Rolleston who was memorable in the 2012 film Boy) escape from his brother's abusive Maori gang through his getting involved as a mentor with a local kid's chess club. This New Zealand film manages to be intense and believable without becoming sappy.

Does it bother me a bit that this is basically the same story as the 22-year old Jurassic Park which already has had two lamer sequels? Honestly no...since this film, at least, managed to rekindle my sense of wonder for a few moments at a time. And let's face it, the basic thriller plot of over-reaching mankind humbled by forces of nature is still a potent one. If Bryce Dallas Howard makes an annoying heroine, at least Chris Pratt is growing into his hero roles convincingly. And the two kids were fine despite their underwritten roles and predictable story arc. No, let's face it: people and their puny concerns aren't the point here. Technology is...various sized dinosaurian monsters are. And here, thanks to some really fine technical wizardry, it worked for me

Filmmaker Henry Corra befriended 16-year old Regina Nicholson, who had been diagnosed with osteosarcoma (metastasizing childhood bone cancer.) The documentary is fuzzy about the genesis of their relationship; but Reggie is a film nut...and is determined that her filmic masterpiece will be her own story. She has a rocky relationship with her parents, who were dubious about her relationship with 58-year old Corra; and on her 18th birthday, Reggie left home and Corra became her caregiver as they videoed the progression of her illness together.

The film is edited chronologically, with frequent references to the movies that Reggie loved to watch. It is beautifully shot, for the most part, and scored with a low-level dirge like song score which adds much to the pathos of the predictable course of Reggie's fight for life. Reggie's sunny, smart personality and her pluck despite the pain and torture of her ceaseless medical struggles, raises the level of the audience involvement in the film (which otherwise would be a depressing downer.) For all the sadness of its inevitable conclusion, this is a remarkably life affirming documentary.

Brenda Myers-Powell was a prostitute in Chicago who turned her life around and is now co-executive director of the Dreamcatcher Foundation. This documentary follows Brenda as she reaches into the community and non-judgmentally helps girls and women to deal with bettering their lives. The stories she encounters are heartbreaking; and Brenda (and her many fabulous wigs) is a wonderful role model. British woman director Longinotto offers a straightforward, cinema verité camera which just follows Brenda around without editorializing as she does her outreach to hoes and high school students. The film's lack of structure and the unrelenting woefulness of the subject matter does become wearying after a while.

The elderly inhabitants of an Israeli retirement home get together to commit mercy killings using a home made, self-administered suicide machine. The film plays as a comedy with serious overtones. The characterizations ring true to life; and the various stories are poignant without going saccharin. I'm of an age where this film is terrifyingly relevant (plus my own Alzheimer's afflicted, 97 year old mother could have been portrayed in this film.) This is one of those rare film comedies that portray elderly characters realistically, without patronizing. If the actual plot is fairly predictable, at least the filmmakers' sensitivity and compassion shine through.

This film goes into the unconventional pop music biopic bag. It is a dramatization of two periods of the life of the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson...sort of the way Todd Haynes' I'm Not There became an impressionistic biopic about Bob Dylan.

Veteran producer and first time director Bill Pohlad, and screenplay writers Owen Moverman and Michael Lerner made two crucial decisions. First have eerie look-alike Paul Dano play Brian in the super-creative, but neurotic mid-1960s portion; and then use a relatively superannuated John Cusack to play Brian in his psychotic breakdown period of the 1980s. And then cleverly intercut the two period narratives running parallel, to emphasize the lifestyle and creative disparities. This works far better than one would suppose, mainly because the vastly different situations of a mere twenty years separation are crucial in understanding Wilson's progression into benign psychosis.

Dano is especially superb at representing the soul of Wilson's most creative 1960s period (I was reminded of Miles Teller's obsessive application to his drumming in Whiplash.) And Cusack does super-neurotic helplessness very well. The film is aided by two other fine performances in the 1980s sequences: Paul Giamatti, relentless and vile as the quack psychiatrist Dr. Eugene Landy, and Elizabeth Banks, luminous as the woman that Wilson enlists to help him escape from Landy's over-medicating clutches.

The film isn't perfect. The pacing is off at times, and the editing schema occasionally becomes cumbersome. But the film is wildly successful at providing insight into Wilson's creative process and the Beach Boy's music. Back in the 1960s I loved the Beach Boys and admired their struggle to compete with Beatles at the summit of pop music brilliance. For me, they both comprised the dueling yin and yang of my concept of contemporary music at its most exalted. At the very least, Love & Mercy got the Beach Boys role in that pantheon exactly right.

The premise is clever and unique: representing pictorially and metaphorically the phenomena of human emotions and memory. The 3D animation is among Pixar's best (glowing shadows, huge scope, expressive characters.) The vocal acting is quite fine. Too bad for me that the story was just not my cuppa. I could relate to it with my intellect; but the emotional content just didn't register. Maybe I'm just an old grouch, the audience seemed rapt for the most part. Anyway, I am giving it an extra 1/2 star for the sheer brilliance of the concept.

This interesting, fun, and let's face it scrumptious documentary shows the history of Jewish delicatessens, from their heyday when there were about 5,000 delis in the NYC area alone to the present day when there probably are only 200 left in the entire country. The film centers on one third generation deli man, Ziggy Gruber - cordon bleu chef and restauranteur owner of the Kenny & Ziggy's New York Deli in Houston. But it also spans the nation interviewing other deli "men," and showing them plying their trade and delivering their traditional "hamish" deli meals (the film is filled with Yiddishisms, which it presents amusingly with subtitles). As foodie documentaries go, this one ranks high for mouth watering presentation of the ethnic food (corn beef, pastrami, kugel, thin sliced lox etc.) But the people stories (other than with Ziggy and his family) are somewhat perfunctory. I know where I'll go now if I ever find my way to Houston, Texas.

Iron Mike Tyson gets top producer credit on this documentary about the fight game (boxing, that is.) The film mainly covers the life and career of three disparate African American boxers, Tyson himself, Evander Holyfield and Bernard Hopkins. But it is also to some extent a history of boxing, and a moving exposé of the way the poor become boxers only to be ruthlessly exploited by the business. The credits are first class; and the film is at least as entertaining as a boxing match. Which means I responded to the message, but didn't enjoy the film very much.

In 1947 the U.N. partitioned the British Mandate of Palestine between Jewish and Arab factions. By May, 1948 when the British withdrew, the Arab armies with their overwhelming numbers and superior equipment were massed to attack; and the Jewish forces had no air support, no war planes. This documentary tells the story of the almost miraculous formation of an Israeli air force from the point of view of several now elderly American pilots who risked their passports and even their citizenship to help break an American embargo of arms and airplanes to the region.

Using special effects and amazing footage from the time, along with interviews with the surviving airmen and present day historians, the film weaves a skillful and emotionally satisfying chronological tapestry of that fateful battle for Israel's survival, culminating in the final truce of 1949. I'll admit, that maybe as a secular Jew I was prone to be especially receptive to the heroics of the men and women who beat all odds in winning the war which safeguarded the new state. However, there's no denying that the film was well written and edited to produce a clear record of the events, and a moving tribute the the members of the "Greatest Generation" who helped form the nation of Israel.

[Seen and reviewed at a film festival in 2008]

The director's father, Tommy Tedesco, was a great guitar player who was part of a group of relatively unknown studio musicians called the "Wrecking Crew" which backed up most of the really great L.A. rock and pop groups of the 1960's through the mid-80's. Such groups as the Beach Boys, the Association, the Mamas and the Papas used them; plus they made up the backbone of Phil Spector's wall of sound. This documentary is a tribute to these men (and one woman), using interviews with many of those still alive plus generous portions of the songs they helped produce. This was my era of music...I don't think there was one song here that I didn't know and that didn't provide the sound track of my life. Plus all this happened within a mile of where I lived and worked (and even was a peripheral participant in this scene as a music video editor and filmmaker). So for me, this was a fascinating evocation of a part of the music industry that I was only dimly aware of at the time. The film was emotionally satisfying, to say the least; but as a documentary film it was rather straightforward and broke no new ground.

David Oyelowo gives a tour de force performance, a one-man, maniacal soliloquy of a man disintegrating on webcam to unseen on-line voyeurs. The film itself is hard to watch...mainly because it is such a true to life portrayal of mental illness and the destructive nature of thwarted desire. Outstanding direction and editing; but oh, so depressing.

It's not really a terrible film. The special effects were passable...in its way this is as retro a live action sci-fi epic as The Iron Giant was a retro animated sci-fi epic. But the plot was simplistic, the acting sub-par, the message so earnest and lacking in subtlety that it set my teeth on edge. OK, so maybe I'm a miserable skeptic stuck in relentless pessimism. But this Disneyfication of the future didn't strike me as feasible or even desirable.

An Argentine film critic is so pretentious that he narrates his life to himself in French. His disdain for the Hollywood type rom-com genre movies that he watches in screening rooms is manifest until he, himself falls for a quirky woman with ironic consequences. The film is a meta treasure trove for cineastes, with some fine montages and clever camera work. Actually the movie references were amusing; but the two main characters and their relationship never quite overcame the inherent cliches of the genre satire.

There's nothing actually wrong with this pleasantly innocuous film. It's the story of an elderly couple attempting to exchange their 40-year occupied, 5th floor walk-up condo view apartment in Brooklyn for another one more adapted to old age frailties. The central interracial couple (Diane Keaton and Morgan Freeman, plus two unfamiliar look-alikes playing them as newly weds) are fetchingly human scale, even boring in their ordinary quirkiness. There's actually a weird comparison here to Love is Strange, Ira Sachs' recent film about a gay couple with a sort-of similar New York apartment quandary...Keaton's character even comments how 40-years earlier their marriage was illegal in many states. But social commentary isn't this film's long suit. Rather it is more about NYC real estate than about real people with problems that actually matter.

This is one glorious action film with great forward thrust, some of the best stunt work ever presented on film, and an incomparable dynamic sound scape which never stops thrilling. The only thing that keeps this from achieving an historic 5-star rating is that the supernaturally extended chase plot is somewhat rudimentary (at least compared with the psychological complexities of past Mad Max extravaganzas)...and that the eponymous Max, as portrayed by Tom Hardy, doesn't quite match Mel Gibson's achievement of human scaled crazy. But Nicholas Hoult almost makes up for that with an over-the-top elan.

An ever-so-ordinary HBO biopic about Bessie Smith. Some fine performances: Mo'Nique surprises as Ma Rainey. And Queen Latifah gives it her all in the title role; but it doesn't quite ring down and dirty enough. Good production values...the setting is expensively authentic. But I didn't finish the all-too-abrupt, seemingly unfinished ending of the movie feeling that I had any real understanding of Bessie, her music, and especially her soul.

This profoundly unsettling film tells the story of USAF Major Thomas Egan (who may or may not be based on a real person, a la American Sniper, it's sort of unclear.) After several tours of duty in the Middle East flying fighter planes, Egan has been stationed in 2010 at a base near Las Vegas flying drones in Afghanistan, and killing wantonly by remote control the enemy (and under the C.I.A. rules of engagement, also often killing civilians who are considered mere collateral damage.) This allows him to fight the war in relative personal safety, going home every night to his children and nonetheless unsatisfied wife (a startlingly good performance by January Jones who emotes in one movie more than she did in seven seasons of "Mad Men" episodes.)

Ethan Hawke plays Egan with a stalwart stoicism which belies his inner conflict (killing up close and personal in a fighter plane is somehow preferable to playing a video game with real-life consequences.) Director Noccol (who directed Hawke in a similar performance in Gattaca) made the film without U.S. military approval or assistance, understandably. But its anti-drone warfare message, and the portrayal of modern warfare U.S. style (no pussyfooting on the issue of "war crimes"), marks this as a subversive film. Too bad its important message is obscured by its over-obvious screenplay.

Kristen Wiig plays Alice Klieg, a woman working out the solipsistic fantasy of winning the lottery and using her new found wealth to purchase fame by letting her personality disordered id run riot on a self-directed television show called "Welcome to Me." In a way this is the tamer, more localized, female version of The Truman Show, with Klieg spotlighted (note the name) in her own fantasy world to the detriment of all around her (especially her best friend Gina, beautifully portrayed by Linda Cardellini). The resulting film was a little too manic for my tastes; but the excellent supporting cast (including Wes Bentley who should be a big star by now but seems stuck in a supporting role rut lately), Wiig's convincing loopiness straight out of an extended "Saturday Night Live" skit, and the film's remarkable production design kept me watching.

Why did this BBC/HBO mini-series exist? The characters are either reprehensible or pitiful, powerless victims. The point of the story, if there is one, is confusing...or worse, subversive and dispiriting. By the end of the 3rd and last part I would have (to borrow an on-line reviewer's phrase) preferred to have stuck a fork in my eye.

This documentary covers the remarkable, short life of artist and musician Kurt Cobain. It was made from a treasure trove of materials (the famed notebooks, Cobain's artworks, and hundreds of hours of super-8 movies and audio tapes that the obsessive, hyperactive man produced that were stored after his death.) All this was collected and presented with the support of Cobain's now grown-up daughter by the genius director Brett Morgen (who revolutionized the art of animating source materials in his seminal 2002 documentary about Robert Evans, The Kid Stays in the Picture.)

What results is simply one of the all-time great music documentaries...with an amazing, mind expanding sound design and inventive graphic visual presentation. It also is an unapologetically close-up view, junkie warts and all, of the troubled artist and his tragic life. I wasn't a Nirvana fan at the time; in fact grunge rock and the Seattle sound totally escaped my notice for the most part. But I'm thankful that in 2015 I was able to experience what these amazing artists (both rock star and film maker) produced on a big screen with the best sound system possible. My advice: don't just watch this doc on HBO, or god forbid on an iPad. Try to catch it at full volume with the best sound system possible.

Frankly, most inane, totally predictable comic book action movies bore me. This one had too many stock heroes, too many repetitive action sequences, too many essentially same old same old villains, too much cheesy and obvious special effects...simply unbelievable excess from first frame to last. Even the presence of some of my favorite actors: Johansson, Evans, Taylor-Johnson, Downey Jr, Ruffalo, Renner, Spader, Cheadle, Bettany couldn't convince me to watch another inevitable sequel. I was too old for Marvel comics (DC was the big deal when I was a kid); and I'm too discerning for this drivel.

[Watched at a film festival under the name "Get Well Soon".]

Gerard Lanvin plays Pierre, a grizzled Parisian retiree who, at the start of the film, was severely injured in a hit-and-run auto vs. pedestrian accident and thrust over a bridge and into the Seine. He's saved by a young rent-boy who jumped into the river; and subsequently he spends most of the film confined to a hospital bed in a body cast. That is the set-up for a pleasant enough dramedy about rehabilitating a damaged character both physically and mentally. Lanvin is very good here; and the script is inventive and amusing in its view of hospitalization and the revelations of its more or less quirky characters.

The setting is Indochina in 1946, as the French army returned to the country post-WWII to reclaim the colony and protect the colonialists. However, they weren't quite prepared for the Viet Minh who were planning and waging a war of independence. This large scale, even epic French TV movie focuses on a platoon of French commandos, one of which (played by Emile Berling who is turning out to be as interesting an actor as his father Charles) becomes a conscientious deserter to the Viet Minh cause. As such, he becomes an object of obsessive hatred by a fellow loyalist commando (convincingly played by Abraham Belaga) who sets out on a personal mission to destroy his former mate. The film is both a war film and an historical explication of an era that is mostly swept under the rug in France (their colonial war in Algeria overshadowed it); but it has real resonance to Americans who were eventually caught up in the same Vietnamese morass. Director Erich Zonca, working with a restrained budget for TV, cements his reputation as one of the finest film makers currently working in France.

Catherine Deneuve still has "it" playing the ruthless owner of a cash-strapped Nice casino in 1976. Her unstable daughter (realistically played by Adèle Haenel) chafes for her inheritance; and falls obsessively in love with her mother's handsome, youngish, womanizing lawyer (a charismatic performance by Guillaume Canet.) That is the set-up for a financial thriller which becomes a different sort of murder mystery...roughly based on an actual case. Director Téchiné shows his usual flair for place and time in re-creating the sumptuous haut monde of the South of France, that hearkens back to the vicarious enjoyment of Jacque Demy's '60s romantic thriller Bay of Angels, set in a similar milieu. However the final act of the current film seemed incomplete and disappointing somehow.

In this gorgeously restored 1973 film, Alain Delon (still preternaturally handsome and also the producer of the film) plays a released convict (a mobster underling and bank robber in his youth) determined to go straight and settle down with the right woman. His release was abetted by an ex-cop who has become in retirement a supporter of prisoner's rights (Jean Gabin, convincingly huministic in one of his ultimate roles). However, the police detective that originally arrested him does not believe in Delon's sincerity and commences to hound him to the breaking point. That's the set-up for a powerful indictment of the status of released felons in France...plus (slight spoiler) an even more powerful indictment of the guillotine and capital punishment. The acting is impeccable; but there's a certain obviousness about the "message" that detracts just slightly from calling this film a masterpiece of film noir.

[Watched at a film festival under the name "Blind Date"]

Clovis Cornillac is a fine French actor who tries his hand as a fledgling director in this clever and involving French romantic comedy (emphasis on both quirky romance and authentic amusement.) Cornillac directs himself as "Who's-it", a curmudgeonly urban hermit who has hardly left his domicile since his wife died 7 years earlier. His Paris walk-up apartment abuts another apartment with very thin walls, and Who's-it is phobic about noise. When a young woman pianist (plucky Mélanie Bernier) moves in next door, Who's-it desperately attempts to convince her that her new apartment is haunted so she would move. Instead, they strike up, unseen to each other, an unlikely romance through their common wall.

This original premise was suggested to Cornillac by his wife, Lilou Fogli (who plays the sister of the neighboring girl.) The story is solid gold; and Cornillac is extremely effective directing the comedy and acting the central role. One can only hope that this film will lead Cornillac to further directing efforts...he's that good.

[Watched at a film festival under the name "Do Not Disturb"]

Veteran actor Christian Clavier is frenetically effective playing Michel, a bourgeois dentist and LP collector who finds a rare jazz record and wants nothing more than to listen to his discovery in peace and quiet. However, in the traditional French farce way, all bedlam ensues to ruin his day. This is the kind of farce that Francis Veber (The Dinner Game etc.) excels at. Only here, prolific French director Patrice Leconte seemed somewhat out of his depth, losing control of his film to silly situations and mediocre acting.

[Watched at a film festival under the unimaginative title of "Once in a Lifetime."]

Mme Gueguen is a high school history teacher faced with an unruly class of misfits in contemporary urban France. To try to involve her underachievers, she invites the class to participate in a national scholastic contest about children caught up in the Holocaust. Most of her classroom had never even heard of the Holocaust, initially regarding "genocide" as what the Israelis are doing to the Palestinians today. But in this based on a true story film, the teacher (a magnificent performance by Ariane Ascaride) managed to reach these kids.

This emotionally devastating and heartening film joins a handful of other films about a great teacher making an impact on deprived inner city kids, such as Stand and Deliver and Dangerous Minds (Michelle Pfeiffer's 1995 acting triumph). And even though the theme is familiar and perhaps somewhat predictable (since they were making a film about it to begin with), the execution here is superb. The students' discoveries of what happened in the 1940s in France and Poland, their awakening to the horrors the Nazis perpetrated, were so well portrayed that I found myself hopelessly tearful for most of the last half of the film. Even if some of the students were portrayed as archetypes rather than fully fleshed out characters, they still come thrillingly alive. This is committed film making of the highest order.

Coralie, AKA Brooklyn, is a young Swiss hip-hop singer, an angry black girl living in the impoverished projects in Saint-Denis (a suburb of Paris.) She becomes part of the lively, local club scene, falls for another rap singer, Issa, who turns out to be a real heel. This is slice-of-life stuff; but done rather amateurishly with hand-held camera and amateur actors. The music is authentic, at least, even if the rap lyrics in French do not translate at all well in the subtitles. KT Gorique is fine playing the dreadlocked Brooklyn; and I managed to enjoy her rapping even if I couldn't understand it. But I could find little else to relate to in her story.

Parisian police are stymied by bureaucratic inefficiency for years in tracking down a rapist and serial killer whose signature is slashing the throats of young women. One detective, Franck (a second memorable performance at this French film festival by Raphaël Personnaz) is obsessed by the case and perseveres for 8 years to solve the crimes. The film is structured "Law and Order" style, intercutting the ultimate trial of the perp with flashbacks of the crimes and showing how poorly the various departments at 36 Quai des Orfèvres coordinated in even establishing the existence of a serial killer for years. The film is bleak and realistic. It is as superb a throwback to the traditional film noir as we could hope for.

Jean Dujardin puts his classic movie star profile to good use playing true life Pierre Michel, the magistrate who toiled ceaselessly for six years in 1970s Marseilles, disregarding all danger, to bring to justice the ruthless heroin kingpin, French Connection Gaëtan Zampa. This was a well done policier that managed to humanize a large group of people on both sides of the law. I'll admit that I had a little trouble following the complexities of the case and the multiple characters; but the film was very effective at building tension and getting the era authentic. One personal problem I had was that the actor playing Zampa (Gilles Lellouche) looked so much like Dujardin that for a while I had trouble distinguishing who was which character. But in the final analysis, this was a thriller that thrilled.

A grieving Australian father overcomes great odds trying to find the remains of his sons who died in battle at Gallipoli in WWI. That's the premise of this heartfelt film which combines a war story (in flashbacks) and a family story into a mini-epic. Director Russell Crowe exerts admirable control over star Russell Crowe, who gives a charismatic, if restrained performance. In this "based on a true story" script, Crowe's character is given psychic abilities: as a water dowser at home in the Australian outback, and then as a diviner of dead spirits on the old battlefield four years after the event. It's a tribute to the good script that I bought the concept.

After an auto accident and near-death experience, Adaline (Blake Lively, never more alluring) doesn't age. It's a ridiculous premise...but one that is explained away about as well as it probably can be. Since this is a romantic chick flick, there's Ellis, a rich and handsome gentleman (Michiel Huisman) who ought to be in Adaline's future (although since he's mortal, she is afraid to commit). And then there's Ellis' father (Harrison Ford, my god he's my age and he's still hot!) who knew Adaline back when; and Adaline's daughter (Ellen Burstyn playing Blake Lively's daughter...told you it's all rather ridiculous!) But I'm a sucker for this kind of film. And the gorgeous cinematography and San Francisco setting didn't hurt. For me, this is the epitome of the guilty pleasure.

Guillaume Canet is chillingly unemoting playing Franck, a Gendarme who is also a psychopathic serial killer who randomly stalks young women hitchhikers. The film doesn't quite connect the dots psychologically. Is Franck a repressed, self-loathing homosexual? The film maybe hints at that; but it isn't made at all clear what motivates the man. However, the film is based on the true story of serial killer Alain Lamare; and the bleak, wintery forests north of Paris make an appropriate setting for such a downer of a story.

This documentary is an exhaustive behind the scenes look at the remodel process of the great Vienna museum, the Kunsthistorisches. The building itself is spectacularly visual; and the collection of historical artifacts and Hapsburg art is huge (more Victoria & Albert kitsch than London National Gallery). The film is shot Frederick Wiseman style, with no narration and very little explanatory material other than what people are talking about in meetings and tours of the construction sites. After a while it all seemed tedious, even if the gradual construction process was educational. In any case, I'm sure that a visit to the museum now that the project is completed would be enhanced by having seen this documentary.

This is a French TV movie which roughly follows the marriage and career of famed con man Charles Ponzi, an Italian immigrant who post-WWI cheated many rubes in Boston and spent years in prison before dying penniless in Brazil in 1941. The film is cheaply made, with many obvious process shots with period backgrounds (including one of Market Street in San Francisco, ridiculously passing for Boston). The mechanisms of Ponzi's scheme are intrinsically boring; and the film is shamelessly badly acted.

This contemporary comedy satire tells the story of a sophisticated, well-read rural French baker (Fabrice Luchini, at the top of his farceur game) who becomes obsessed with the English couple (the Bovery's) who move in across the street. Gemma Arterton makes an ideal modern version of Madame Bovary (and youthful Niels Schneider, looking like a Grecian god, is perfect as the Rodolphe surrogate). Anne Fontaine cleverly adapted the contemporary English novel, which uses Flaubert's original story as the starting point of a delightful, if somewhat unlikely, take on modern day mores.

Director Philippe de Broca isn't known for his romantic comedies; but this amoral romp from 1961 is actually somewhat fun and perhaps well worth watching in 2015. Jean-Pierre Cassel (these days best known as the father of Vincent...but back then one of my favorite actors) played Antoine, a relentless womanizer who sneakily romanced his long-time mistress's best friend. Cassel was immensely likable here, using his lithe body and quick wit to ingratiate his heel-like character. Jean Seberg, fresh from making her mark in Breathless, was never more fetching and movie-star beautiful as Claire, Antoine's American expat conquest. And Micheline Presle rounded out the triangle as the wealthy couturiere who had been keeping Antoine until he strayed with her best friend. The B&W film was carefully restored; but I'd have to say that this very French, very wicked bedroom farce overdid the amorality of the characters to the point of disbelief.

In 2008, Swiss artist Frederik Peeters published an autobiographical graphic novel called "Blue Pills". This extraordinary French TV movie was adapted from that novel and partially fictionalized. But the core narrative remained...one of the most heartening and optimistic HIV stories I've ever experienced. In the film, JB (an amazing performance by attractive actor Guillaume Gouix, who was so fine playing mute in last year's film Attila Marcel) is a graphic artist who falls in love with a woman (a sensitive performance by Florence Loiret Caille) who soon discloses that she and her young child Oscar were both HIV positive. This was in 1999, when HIV was no longer a certain death sentence due to the release of the "blue pills" retroviral therapies. How JB, HIV negative and somewhat naive, coped with this "discordant" relationship with dawning comprehension and affection is the set-up for the graphic novel and film. The relationship thrived and engendered a new HIV negative daughter thanks to those blue pills.

On a personal note, this film rang especially true to me since I was once part of an ill fated discordant relationship myself before the invention of the "blue pills." For me, this wonderfully optimistic and timely story had a resonance and a truthfulness which affected me deeply.

In 1971, the Khmer Rouge was in the process of taking over Cambodia by force and instituting what became the "killing fields." This film is the based-on-a-true story of François Bizot, a French ethnologist (beautifully portrayed by Raphäel Personnaz) who is captured by the rebels and imprisoned for several years as a CIA spy, until finally a Khmer soldier named Duch believes his innocence and he is released. However that is only the start of a long journey which ultimately culminates in the revelation that Bizot's savior was an accused torturer and executor of thousands. The film is both a horrifying prisoner story, and a fascinating political parable of good and evil which spans 30 years. Director Régis Wagoner has created an authentic, horrifying, personalized depiction of one of the bleakest eras of the 20th century.

Young, first-time actor Romain Paul plays Victor. He's 13, going on 14, a fine soccer player, clever and personable, but troubled. He lives in a seaside trailer park in the South of France with his unwed mother who is dying of cancer. His birth father, a semi-famous orchestra conductor, recently returned to the area to lead the local symphony, has not acknowledged him; but Victor seeks him out and the two gradually start a relationship. Young Paul is a true find: with sparse dialogue he manages to bring his character to life with his eyes and body language. Music plays a major role in the film, with Mahler's tragic Sixth Symphony used as a metaphor for the boy's situation. This is a subtle, personal film. Not much happens on the surface; but I felt great sympathy for the boy.

Years before, a woman (an incandescent performance by Dominique Reymond) had entered a relationship with a married man, had seven children with him out-of-wedlock, and along with her children virtually ran her lover's second farm (the man also has a separate family farm with his wife and legitimate children and lives a double life known to both women). This lovingly restored new print of the 1996 film is almost documentary like in its depiction of the hardscrabble life led by the "other" woman and her children working on a large vegetable farm from summer to Christmas. The film presents its drama by slowly accumulating incidents which ultimately becomes an illuminating family story; but it is also one of unrequited love with the potential for real tragedy. I'm not sure if the surprising ending is a cop-out or not. But this heartrending, earthy little film deserves to find an audience.

A serial killer is preying undetected on young boys in Stalin's Soviet Union (the capitalist disease of murder does not exist in Paradise by official decree.) Amidst the official corruption, an obsessive minor KGB official (another fabulous performance by Tom Hardy) becomes determined to expose the official duplicity and capture the perpetrator. That is the set-up for this atmospheric thriller, which artfully captures the bleakness and paranoia of the Soviet era. I'll admit that I got lost in some of the complex plot developments. I feel compelled to read the novel to try to unravel what confused me. Nevertheless I was impressed by the film making: powerful sound design, darkly realistic cinematography, eerie score and great acting all around.

Based on a notorious true crime story (Oregon man allegedly kills his wife and two children), this film is told from the point of view of a disgraced New York Times reporter who is given privileged access to the accused perpetrator while the latter is awaiting trial. The film becomes an ongoing mind game between the manipulative, psychopathic killer (James Franco, totally convincing) and the reporter (Jonah Hill nicely adding to his drama acting cred). This is an intelligent film, well acted especially in the intimate encounters between the two principals. But when the film leaves the prison interview room and delves into the reporter's back story (distressed marriage to a wasted Felicity Jones), and the tedious procedurals of the trial, the film loses steam.

A young couple learn life lessons from an old coot. Scott Eastwood, playing a brave, but foolhardy rodeo bucking bull rider, is a chip off the old block...even better looking than his dad, but somewhat deficient in the acting department. His affair with perky Britt Robertson has little chemistry until they rescue an old man (Alan Alda) whose life story told in flashbacks inspires them. As much as I could ridicule the sappy present day story, in typical original novelist Nicholas Sparks fashion (c.f. The Notebook), the secondary back story moved me to tears, despite my reluctance to go there. The film looked great; and maybe in the hands of a better director this chick flick (god I hate that term) might not have seemed so contrived.

The story of the unruly bastard orphan boy with the beautiful soprano voice who is saved by joining a prep school choir is predictable and cliche ridden. However the film has some saving graces: wonderful acting, gorgeous choral music and a director with true artistic sensibility. Plus I didn't even know how much I've missed Debra Winger and her heartfelt intelligence, probably my favorite actress.

A personal story which might explain the "like" rating for this film. When I was prepubescent, I was a soprano soloist in the L.A. all-city choir. Then, just like 11-year old Stet in this film (a nice performance by young Garrett Wareing) my voice changed, and I no longer could control the timbre and steady pitch of my vocals. I never sang again. This film rang true for me...nice job all around.

Genius inventor-programmer Nathan (another charismatic performance by Oscar Isaac) has created a female robot (Alicia Vikander) which may or may not have independent intelligence. To test this, Nathan brings star employee Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson) to his hideaway country mansion to perform a Touring Test on the robot. That is the set-up for this intriguing, if slow and arty, film which progresses into a variation of the Dr. Frankenstein story (too bad that inventor Nathan had apparently never studied Asimov's "Three Laws of Robotics"). The intelligent dialogue sparkled. The Norwegian mountain/forest location for the scientist's electronically advanced, if sterile, compound was stunningly beautiful. And the sexual tension between the characters was heavy enough to cut with a knife. This is cautionary tale, well told and subtly terrifying.

(Originally reviewed here as another 2005 film with the same name, due to translation confusion. This review now refers to the correct film.)

This is a stale French romantic comedy not much different from dozens of others. He's a "player", she's an artist. They once had an affair, it ended badly, they meet again on a plane flight, rehash old times. You know what is going to happen (but hope in vain that somehow the film will go someplace novel like they all die in a plane crash). Still, the characters are attractive (Ludivine Sagnier is lovely and perky as usual; but Nicolas Bedos as the guy lacks the necessary chemistry.) It isn't enough.

This is the familiar to me story of how plucky Austrian Holocaust escapee Maria Altmann (a superb performance by Helen Mirren) regained her family's famed Klimt portrait of her aunt that was stolen by the Nazis and held fraudulently by the Vienna state museum. The surprise is how effective Ryan Reynolds is playing the young lawyer Randol Schoenberg who helped her [spoiler!] win her case against heavy odds. The script is straightforward and fairly obvious (if she had lost there surely wouldn't have been a film). Nevertheless, I was enthralled by this intelligent, true-life legal thriller.

The real-life Effie Gray was a virginal Scottish lass in mid-19th century England who was trapped in a marriage to the cold, mamma's-boy literary critic John Ruskin (who was at least asexual and never consummated the marriage.) The film is a feminist, period costume drama, which colors the Victorian age with the hindsight of modern psychology. The script (by Emma Thompson) continues her fascination with the era she first explored with her script for Sense and Sensibility. Dakota Fanning was convincingly passive playing Effie; but for me the breakout performance was by Tom Sturridge who played the dashing painter Everett Millais, who tried to rescue Effie from her poisonous marriage. The film was dark and authentic to the time; but for me it dragged a bit in the second act. The story ended on an unresolved note...I think I would have preferred another type of film that would have started where the present film ended.

Imagine the Roadrunner cartoons remade as a live action flick and you get some idea of the belief defying action stunts in this film. Remember the times Willy Coyote runs off a cliff and then realizes mid-air that he's going to get flattened? You get the idea - each gravity defying stunt topping the one that came before. It's all so outrageous, yet so inventively written, edited and performed that it just works somehow, even if the physics and medical reality don't compute. If only the many overlong hand-to-hand fight scenes were as inventive. Some judicious paring might have made for a better film. But I suppose that's beside the point for the intended audience of action junkies. The film ends with a tribute to Paul Walker, and I must admit that I misted up a bit.

This documentary is quite a successful hatchet job on the "Church" of Scientology. The film is comprised mainly of interviews with several apostate ex-honchos of the "religion," plus some terrifying historic footage which fostered inevitable comparisons to filmed Nazi rallies with current leader David Miskovich in the role of Hitler. Oh, there's lots more...crazy, paranoid founder L. Ron Hubbard; pampered celebrities used as public relations dupes (Tom Cruise after Nicole was "disconnected" as a "suppressive person," and John Travolta, who may or may not be a victim of blackmail); and the monetary billions that the church has amassed after its suspicious tax exemption victory over the I.R.S. But for all its effectiveness as exposé, the film could have been structured better to be more pointed.

Living in Hollywood, I'm well acquainted with the success of the church, which owns much property in this area. And in full disclosure mode, I've had dealings with the church when my company was contracted to do film work for them back in the 1990s. I witnessed first hand (but without personal consequences) the kind of brainwashing that ostensibly blissful church minions underwent. But for all that, this unpleasant, disquieting, revealing documentary still came as a shock...and hopefully the revelations will cause lasting damage to the reputation and future of this monster fraud.